


No Matter What

by a_horan



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2013-08-26
Packaged: 2017-12-24 17:13:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/942481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_horan/pseuds/a_horan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry after the VMA's</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Matter What

Harry pulled his room key out of his pocket as soon as he stepped into the hotel. He's been waiting since he got off the stage to curl up in bed and maybe call his mom. He avoids the other boys worried looks in the lobby as he shakes his head and walks towards the elevator. He presses his floor and waits as the door closes in front of him.

He doesn't get what they've done wrong. He doesn't understand why they got booed for winning. The fans voted for it and he couldn't be more grateful for them, but why did the people in the audience have to boo? The elevator dings open and Harry drags himself towards his room. He's glad they started getting separate rooms, he really wants to be alone right now. But at the same time, he doesn't. He's lost in the middle.

He opens the door, kicks off his shoes and strips down until he is only left in his boxers. He doesn't bother folding his clothes, just kicks them in the general direction of his suitcase. He turns off his phone and heads to the bathroom to quickly wash his face and brush his teeth. 

Stepping out of the washroom, he looks out the window to admire the view. He appreciates the location of his room, high up that no fans could peer or zoom in with their cameras, and it's facing the back. He enjoys New York. A lot. He's thought about getting an apartment here, maybe, after One Direction has settled down a bit. He loves the city. Taking in the sight, he sighs and makes his way towards the bed.

Harry curls up in the blankets. They don't smell like home but it's all he's got. He refuses to cry. He can handle it. But he can't, really. Being 19 and in the biggest boy band in the world comes with a lot of pressure and he just can't always stick a smile on his face.

Tonight was supposed to be a good night. The VMA's were a blast last year. He thought this year would top it, but it didn't. Taylor's still calling him out at award shows, people still don't appreciate the work that goes into the music they make, people still boo and bring him down. 

Sniffling, Harry pulls at the sheet beneath him and wipes his nose. It's kind of gross but room service will take care of it in the morning. Right now he needs to let it all out with a good cry. 

He doesn't realize he's shaking with sobs until he feels the mattress dip behind him and a body pressed against him.

"Shh, babe, it's okay," Niall soothes, wrapping an arm around Harry's middle.

Harry turns to face Niall, his eyes are red and glossy from the tears and he's pretty sure there is snot coming out of his nose but Niall doesn't say anything. Niall sits back on the bed, takes off his t-shirt and holds it out to Harry so he can blow his nose.

"I don't wanna ruin it" Harry hiccups.

Niall just rolls his eyes and puts the fabric to Harry's nose, giving him no choice but to blow.

"I can buy a new shirt, Haz. Blow," Niall said.

Harry blew his nose, snuggling into Niall when he finished. Niall chucked the shirt away and shimmied out his pants. He pulled Harry closer and they lied in the hotel room in silence.

"Do you want to talk about it," Niall asked after the silence became too much for him. 

"I just don't get it, Ni. We didn't even perform and we got booed. It's not fair," Harry sighed, fresh tears brimming his eyes.

"I wish I could protect you from them, Harry. I really do, but this won't be the last time this happens. You can't let it get to you. You have so many people who love you. The fans love you, your family, the boys. I love you. Ok? Look at all we've done since we started. You can't let those assholes get to you," Niall replied, squeezing Harry closer to him, bringing a hand up to rake through Harry's hair.

"But why don't they like me. Us," Harry questioned, wiping a tear from his eye.

"Not everyone is going to like us. Not everyone has to. We have amazing fans Harry, just focus on them. Fuck the people who don't like us, or you. They don't know you like I do. You're my best friend, Harry. You're charming and funny and beautiful. So beautiful and wonderful. You're one of the most important people in my life," Niall explained. 

Harry sighed, resting his head on Niall's chest, feeling the rise and fall of Niall breathing. He reached out and grabbed Niall's hand, bringing it to his mouth so we could kiss his knuckles.

"I wish I could be like you. You know how to handle things," Harry confessed. 

"Until you figure out how to do it, I'll be here for you. No matter what," Niall promised, gripping Harry's hand. 

"I love you, too," Harry replied, getting comfortable around Niall, finding a position to sleep in.

Niall waited until Harry's breathing evened out. He pushed back the hair on Harry's forehead and placed a kiss. He pulled out his cell phone, shooting out a quick text to the other boys before signing onto Twitter.

"Wow! Can't believe we won! Thank you soo much for voting in your Millions! Love you soo much! You've no idea"

 

He turned off his phone and held Harry until he, too, drifted off to sleep. 

xXx

Harry woke up the next morning as the little spoon, Niall still sound asleep wrapped behind him. He gently played with Niall's hand that was thrown across Harry's torso. Last night wasn't the first night Niall had come to Harry's room without being asked to comfort him. 

Harry doesn't want to become too dependent on Niall but when he feels Niall press a kiss to the back of Harry's neck, he doesn't think Niall minds this either.

**Author's Note:**

> idk why i feel like Harry needs protecting but i do and what happened tonight at the award show kind of ~inspired this.


End file.
